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skvaderarts · 4 years ago

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Hiraeth Chapter 53: Connoisseur

Masterlist can be found Here!

Chapter Fifty-Three: Connoisseur

Notes: I had way too much fun with this chapter. Even use the voice to speech editor!

(-~-)

After what felt like a lifetime, Sirrus had finally made good on his promise to cook dinner.

When he had shown up with groceries, he had done so with a vengeance, bringing what had to be an entire vehicle’s worth of them despite the fact that he had seemingly brought them there on foot. No one had seen a vehicle of any sort. If he’d had them delivered, they hadn’t noticed, and unfortunately it had only occurred to them after he’d brought everything in that he’d had quite a bit to carry.

Much to their astonishment, he was actually capable of cooking, despite the fact that he showed very little interest in actually cooking what he had just made. He’d brought himself a bottle of wine that he had no intention of sharing, and then he had made himself comfortable, more interested in knowing if they enjoyed the meal than actually tasting it for himself. Had they just been poisoned?

“You know, this is pretty damn good,” Nero said as he went back for a second plate of whatever pasta he’d been digging into. It wasn’t something that he’d had before, but whatever it was, it was great. He made sure to set some aside for Kyrie and the kids to taste when he went back home tomorrow. He needed to check and make sure that everything was okay back at home. Then he would return and spend a bit more time with his older sibling. “Were you just not hungry or something?”

Sirrus looked up from his bottle of wine, more than halfway done with it but still not seemingly intoxicated. He’d been silently drinking for about a half-hour, enjoying every moment of it. It seemed that his alcohol tolerance was quite strong. After all, that was some dark wine, and although it wasn’t the biggest bottle Nero had ever seen, he couldn’t help but notice that he was probably going to finish it off in one sitting.

“Hm? Oh. I appreciate your concern, but I will have to pass. There is an ingredient in that pasta that I simply can’t abide by.” Sirrus topped off his drink, being the only person that any of them had ever seen drink wine out of what seemed to be a round, flat-bottomed drinking glass instead of a full-sized one. It was strange, to say the least. He would slosh it around for a moment before taking an occasional sniff and drinking it, nodding to himself. None of them understood why, but they simply assumed that he really liked that wine.

“But… then why not leave it out? Then you could eat it.” Nero was genuinely confused as to why he made something for them to eat that he would be allergic to. It seemed like a hazard. And what in the world had he even put in the pasta that he was allergic to? It didn’t seem like an exceptionally complex dish. Did Sirrus ever eat?

“I find that people seem to like it better with that in the dish. It gives it a good flavor.” He shrugged slightly, taking another sip of his drink. “It’s kind of like leaving salt out of your food. You just don’t do that unless you have to.”

Nero sighed and shook his head, amused. He could have just made them something else for dinner if that was the case, but he was grateful either way. He didn’t really need to understand it. “I swear, if it’s garlic or something… ” The youngest descendant of Sparda froze in place, his brain jamming like a faulty gear. “... Are you a fucking vampire?!”

Much to both his and V’s surprise, Sirrus burst into hysterical laughter. He barely managed to sit his drink and the bottle down on the coffee table before leaning over continuing to laugh, gagging slightly. He continued that way for almost two minutes before wiping the tears from his eyes and standing up, clearing his throat. He was clearly flushed and seemed almost embarrassed to have reacted in the way that he had.

“That’s not a bad guess, but no. Not quite, I’m afraid.” He took a few deep breaths, clearing his throat further. Once he had shaken off the residual urge to continue laughing by stifling a short flurry of chuckles, he reached down and took another sip of his drink, using it to coat his throat. That had nearly wrecked his vocal cords. “But I can see why you might think that. Unfortunately, I think my ability to not burst into flames during the daylight hours disqualifies me.”

Shrugging in defeat and opting to return to his food, Nero silently admitted defeat. Sirrus had a point, vampires did burn in the sun. At least from what he knew. And all of this was hypothetical, after all. Vampires weren’t a real thing… were they? After all, he was a quarter-demon. Who was he to say what was and wasn’t valid on the supernatural spectrum? It wouldn’t be the craziest thing he’d ever heard or the strangest thing he’d ever experienced. “Yeah probably.”

Clearly realizing that he had probably made things somewhat awkward, he sat down again, unable to remember why he had just stood up. He truly had been turned around by Nero’s comment. “But that being said, I genuinely can’t remember the last time I laughed that hard. So thank you. I think I needed it more than I realized.”

Returning to his food in an effort to finish it before it got cold, Nero nodded. They were going to have a busy day working on this plan, and he wanted to enjoy the simple things before anything major happened. And while this pasta wasn’t the simplest thing he’d ever had, it was much simpler than basically everything else going on. Why ruin it?

Seemingly considering something, V turned to face both his brother and their companion. He’d only been half-listening, but he had been fully amused. Dante and Vergil had left about an hour ago, and Lucia was asleep upstairs. Flora and Morgan had joined her not too long ago, and Bren had joined the twins at Vergil’s request, the eldest of the group unwilling to allow him to linger around everyone else without himself present. “In order to keep them from being easily tracked by the summoner who is actively hunting V and Morgan,” he’d said. And to be fair, that made sense.

Yawning, V stood up from the armchair that he’d made himself comfortable in and headed towards the hallway. As amusing as this conversation was, he felt an immense desire to take a nap and rest. There would be time enough to go back and forth with them over the fascinating and diverse mythological history of vampires and demons another time. For now, he would be satisfied simply getting a good night’s rest.

“If I may, I bid you farewell. I am far past my prime, and I believe it is now time that I retire to my bedroom.”

Nero scoffed playfully. “V, you're, what, barely in your early twenties? You haven’t even gotten to your prime yet. Don’t sell yourself short.”

Pausing for a moment, V took that into consideration. He then smirked and tilted his head in Nero’s direction, peering at him over his shoulder with his back still turned to him. “I’m sorry Nero, but while I am aware of this, the rest of my body doesn’t seem to agree with you. I’m afraid those decisions come from a bit further up the ladder.” He barely resisted the urge to laugh to himself. It was true, but that didn’t make the joke any less compelling in his mind. But he appreciated his younger brother’s support.

Sirrus simply held up his glass and nodded, his mouth full of more wine. It seemed that he had no interest in holding V up. He wasn’t going to stop him from heading off to bed, it seemed. And V was sure that whenever he got up in the morning Sirrus would be there to greet him. He couldn’t pinpoint how, but he just knew that that was the case. He wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. He still had work to do.

(-~-)

One of V’s least favorite phenomena had just occurred. And of course, it would pick a time like this. So often when he found himself tired and excited to get a good night’s rest, something like this would occur, absolutely throwing off his entire routine and disturbing what would otherwise be a relaxing time. But considering everything that was going on, he couldn’t say that he was surprised that his own body would betray him in such a manner. At least it wasn’t demonic in nature for once.

He had never been able to put a name to the sensation, but he had felt it all his life. For as long as he could remember, the sensation had occasionally plagued him when he started to drift off to sleep, disturbing what would have otherwise been a peaceful night’s rest. But it had managed to creep its way back into his subconscious yet again, just as it always did. The sensation of falling was unwelcome, but it happened from time to time. He knew it wasn’t all that strange, but he still didn’t enjoy waking up that way.

Wiping the sweat from his brow and panting slightly, he decided that the best course of action in this situation would be to get something cold to drink. Perhaps that would calm his frayed nerves. He would normally brew a cup of tea, but he simply did not feel like putting in that much effort into it right now. He would have a cold drink and return to his bed. It was as simple as that.

Laying there in the bed reclined against the headboard, he found himself actively telling himself to get up and head downstairs, but to his surprise, his muscles didn’t move. No matter how much he tried, he simply couldn’t will himself to move even the slightest amount. A heavy sigh escaped his lips and he cursed his sedentary state. He was quite literally getting nowhere like this.

After several minutes, his leg suddenly moved, his brain subconsciously registering the fact that he had apparently been dozing off without realizing it. He’d actually zoned out, thinking about nothing in particular, and it seemed that he had suddenly regained the willpower necessary to do something; anything that he’d been trying to do. It was a small victory, but an important one. Or, at least he thought so. He was positive that he could actually make himself get up and head downstairs now. He just hoped that he didn’t manage to wake anyone up when he was doing it. He was in a haze.

Endeavoring to make his way out of the bed and over to the door to his bedroom, he sighed and tossed the covers to the side before standing up and heading over to the door. This wouldn’t take long, and then he could come back. Just the act of heading to the kitchen was exhausting enough to tell him that this plan was probably going to work just fine. He just hoped that he didn’t wake anyone up as he rounded the corner and headed towards the steps. But on his way over, something caught his eye.

Just out of the clear line of sight, he was certain that the back balcony door was open. The bright moonlight shined through as the curtains blew in the chilly night air, cooling that floor of the house and letting in the pleasant aroma that only hung in the air after it rained or snowed. But as lovely as it was, perhaps it was best that he close the door and go get his water so that he could head back to bed. This wasn’t the time to stay up.

Cautiously making his way over to the door, he paused as he entered the crosshairs formed by the glass in the windows. It was almost entrancing, the sight of the autumn moon lingering over a blanket of fresh snow. If he hadn’t been so tired he could have stood there forever, just enjoying the cool silence and the tickle of cold air on his exposed skin. But he knew that it was not the right time for something like that. He had been ordered to get plenty of rest, and this wasn’t the way to accomplish that. So with a heavy heart, he decided to turn back and head to his room.

And he stopped dead in his tracks as soon as he did.

Standing before him was Sirrus, silent, and admittedly scary as hell to him in a manner that he had never experienced before. For a brief but frankly terrifying moment, he’d made eye contact with the other man, his icy gray eyes turning from their normal color to a spine-chilling black. And not just the pupil. The entire eyeball. But then after what felt like a lifetime, he slowly blinked, tilting his head a centimeter at a time to the right as he seemed to register V’s presents for the first time so slowly that V wondered if he was possessed. And after what felt like the passage of a century, he blinked. Slowly and deliberately in a manner that reminded him entirely too much of the way that a snake or a lizard might. There was entirely too much control behind the gesture for his tastes, and he was positive that he never wanted to see it again for as long as he lived.

He hadn’t registered his companion’s approach, and he most certainly hadn’t been prepared for this glimpse into what he could only assume was his true nature. It reminded him of the way that the other members of his own family’s eyes changed color when they entered their Devil Trigger state, except somehow several measures creepier. Perhaps it was purely because of the fact that although yellow and red were not normal eye colors by any metic, black was just sinister. What on earth had he just discovered? V refused to believe that this wasn’t something that happened regularly. It just seemed like something that had an actual reason behind it. After all, he was sure that he’d actually seen that just now and that he hadn’t been hallucinating.

“Honestly, it’s so rare that anyone ever sees me under moonlight that I forget the effect it has on me. Forgive my startling visage and my inability to announce myself when I enter a space.”

The young summoner continued to stare blankly, rooted to the spot. For whatever reason, he just didn't seem to be able to form any meaningful thoughts at the moment. He still felt like he had just stared into the abyss and it had stared back at him. Or perhaps more appropriately into him. The nature of his companion’s powers and, to that extent, his very being, we’re still a mystery to him, so to say that this had taken him entirely off guard would be an understatement. But it wasn’t so much that he felt threatened by Sirrus as it was that he simply had no ability to understand what had just happened between them. He now had a better understanding as to why Nero had been so surprised to see him up this late in the kitchen on a few occasions. It was, indeed, very distressing. But he had a distinct feeling that this was somehow worse.

“I could be mistaken, but you seem to have something on your mind.” Sirrus was clearly trying his very best to make an uncomfortable situation seem less so, but he clearly understood that he wasn’t getting anywhere and fast. A part of him genuinely wished that he hadn’t seen him doing that, even if it was only for V’s sake. People tended to react poorly to that aspect of who he was. “I assure you that I have not been possessed or otherwise influenced by the darkness that seeks to consume us all. This is simply just what my eyes do at night under the cover of a full moon when I am outside. The curse of what I am. That is why you didn’t see this before now. They do just the opposite on bright sunny days, though that is a bit harder to notice.”

“… Yes, I see that.” He honestly didn’t know how to feel about this situation. But he could try and break the ice. “Is it uncomfortable? It seems as though it would give you a bad case of photosensitivity.”

“As a matter of fact, it sort of does.” Sirrus shrugged, walking over to the rail and sitting down in the thin layer of snow that coated the balcony. “But again, I am sorry that I disturbed you. Darkness and light are present in different measures in all beings, but during certain natural phenomena, it takes a much more literal hold over me. There is no danger in it. I have full control over my abilities. I’ve worked my whole life to ensure that… but the full moon still seems to have some wicked hold over me. It possesses an allure that I cannot deny. And so from time to time, I indulge in its presence. Even if only for a moment. That seems to satiate my nebulous desires.”

V nodded, leaning against the railing. He had felt his own version of that from time to time, but it didn’t seem to be as strong as what his companion had just described. It sounded as though it called to him in a way that he couldn’t explain away in the manner that V could. Perhaps that was a trademark of things that resided or originated in darker places? It seemed demonic in nature, but from what he’d inferred during Sirrus’s conversation with Hydrangea back at the Ludwig estate, Sirrus seemed to possess powers that dwelled firmly in the light side of the power spectrum. He didn’t know enough about the differences between enhancement and abilities to have a firm opinion on that matter, but he had to admit that this made him consider a few possibilities.

“You’ve been quiet. Have I startled you into silence?”

Glancing over at him nonchalantly, V quietly dispelled that notion with his now much more relaxed demeanor. He hadn’t been visibly distressed before, but what little fear that had been present in him had now entirely dissipated. “Forgive me. I was considering something.”

Sirrus nodded in understanding before he poured the last of his wine into the glass that he was holding. Whether this was the same glass or another one was unknown to him, but V was still somewhat surprised to see that he was completely sober. And although he wasn’t sure how he knew, he just knew that it didn’t affect him the same way it did everyone else. He himself had still failed to ever actually do more than taste a sip of wine. He couldn’t say that he felt an immense desire to drink it, using it for little more than cooking. But he did know that Sirrus should be at least slightly inebriated by now.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but you are incapable of becoming intoxicated aren’t you?”

Looking up at him, Sirrus seemed to consider the question before nodding once in almost hesitant agreement. “Yes. You would be correct. And I do believe that that isn’t the only thing you’ve discovered about me tonight. I just think you lack the vocabulary and relevant knowledge to understand what you’ve unearthed. There is a name for what I am. It just isn’t one that many people know or believe to be true. I suspect that you will understand in due time. But for now, we need to make a plan, and you should rest.”

V agreed with his sentiments. “I had ventured out of my bed to get something to drink. I plan to return there soon, but now I wonder if I shall actually sleep. I’m very awake now, I’m afraid. But I suppose that’s how it always works when you are seeking a good night’s rest.”

He shook his head for a brief moment, not having much to say about the matter. “You need not explain yourself to me, V. You are not a child. If you wish to wander the halls of your home and then sleep on the floor in the hallway. I have no say over that.” He took a moment to slosh his drink again, looking at it in the glass. It did have a wonderful bouquet, at least as far as he was concerned. “And if sleeping is what you intend to do, I would recommend the brandy I brought over. This wine would no doubt be revolting to you. It is basically every aside from a few close friends and relatives of mine.”

“Now I am morbidly curious as to what it actually tastes like.” V’s eyebrow arched ever so slightly. Sirrus would have had to possess very specific culinary preferences to be so certain that his drink would not be well received by anyone other than himself. Wasn’t the point of alcohol to be appealing to people?

Much to his surprise, Sirrus handed him the cup. It seemed that he was willing to allow him to learn from his mistakes. V took the glass and looked at it. It was thick and did indeed possess a distinct smell, although it was not one that he could pinpoint. Or more importantly, it possessed two distinct smells, both of which seemed extremely familiar to him but he was unable to identify. Something told him that this wine tasted the exact same way that it smelled, and he wondered for a moment if he wanted to actually taste it. For some reason, he still did, but something about it just nagged at him.

“OH PLEASE, V. This isn’t even nearly the worst thing you’ve ever stuck in your mouth. Remember Redgrave City? Because I know I do.”

“... You make a valid point, Griffon. It wouldn’t be.”

“When don’t I make a good point, V? That’s what I’m here for, after all. Now drink it. I just gotta know if it’s as bad as he’s making it sound.”

Admittedly surprised to hear Griffon chime in, he smiled slightly to himself as he answered his familiar in his head, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Sirrus. The other man leaned back slightly, unaware of what his companion was thinking, but sure that he was missing some sort of internal monologue. “You should do that more often.”

V looked up at him from over the top of the small glass, his eyes peering through his white bangs. His lips had very nearly been on the glass. Sirrus’s timing couldn’t have been better if he’d expected him to actually answer. “I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

“Smile, V. If you don’t mind me saying as much, you have a lovely smile. Especially when you smile genuinely. It carries to your eyes as well.” Although calm, he seemed entirely flustered to say that out loud. V simply stared at him, surprised to hear him say something like that. He’d never really considered what he looked like to other people aside from making note of the fact that his demeanor seemed to set everyone off and make them think he was up to something even when he actually wasn’t.

“Do I now… “ He paused, unsure as to what to really say to that. He wasn’t good with compliments. “I hadn’t noticed. I don’t do it very often, and I can’t say I spend much time in front of a mirror.”

“Then I am to believe that you just wake up in the morning looking better than practically everyone else I’ve ever met?” Sirrus cracked a genuine, self-satisfied smile at the statement, closing his eyes for a moment as he blinked slowly. “I suppose that makes sense. Some people are just naturally captivating, and It’s difficult to manufacture that look you get in your eyes. I don’t believe that’s something you can just fake. It comes from somewhere primal. I think it makes the person it belongs to that much more captivating. But on an unrelated note… how’s the wine. I could wax eloquent about you all day, but if I’m not mistaken, you have places to be, and that isn’t something you want me to do.”

V just stared at him for a moment, suddenly very self-conscious for reasons he couldn't pinpoint. He really wasn’t good at receiving compliments, especially when he was the center of attention; something else that he admittedly hated to be.

“If I’ve made you uncomfortable, please forgive me. I simply wished to be honest. I do so as much as possible. And if not, I prefer to avoid the topic altogether.”

Now, that was something that the young summoner could relate to. “Likewise.”

Holding the glass back up to his face, he took a small sip, unsure of what to actually expect from something like this. And to his surprise, he was immediately and entirely overwhelmed by the flavor profile. It was the strangest thing he’d ever tasted, full stop. And he both loved and hated it. His concussion had probably been evident on his face as his brain attempted to process the strange menagerie of flavors that had just hit his taste buds. And from such a small sample size? How had Sirrus managed to drink an entire bottle of this extremely potent wine? Even if he didn’t feel its possible alcoholic effects, this was just, quite frankly, the most overwhelming thing that he had ever ingested. And that was saying something considering his track record.

“Rosa Sanguinum. It’s a vintage from a place I frequent with a very specific flavor profile. And an even more on the nose name. Thankfully no one understands Latin these days, so I don’t believe that the vineyard had anything to worry about. Although to be fair, I don't believe that they are doing themselves any favors with the braiding on the bottle.” Sirrus gestured towards the deep crimson red wax that ran the bottle in a bid to seal it. It was striking in comparison to the black glass.

“Yes, I can see that. If I’m honest, I absolutely loathe it… But I feel an undeniable desire to keep drinking it.” He took a second sip, seemingly trying to mentally process the drink. But no, it still tasted exactly the same way. And he had to admit that it was actually starting to grow on him the longer he attempted to understand it. “But the name makes perfect sense in retrospect… Because this tastes exactly like its namesake. Blood and roses. Or more specifically, it tastes as though I just bit the inside of my mouth and fell face-first into a thorn bush. And I’m disturbed by how much those two overwhelming flavor profiles mix with one another. I have no desire to know how they flavored this.”

Sirrus seemed genuinely shocked by that statement, his eyes widening considerably for a moment before he blinked the surprise away. It seemed that he was completely taken aback by that statement. “You're quite literally the first person I’ve met in ages that actually likes this. Most people simply spit it out or gag at how strong the flavor profile is. Exceptional.” He seemed to be genuinely shocked at this outcome, unable to process an even remotely favorable reply. “One can only imagine that it is a product of your demonic heritage. Perhaps I’ll venture out and purchase one for you.”

V smirked and shook his head, absentmindedly finishing off the last sip in the cup after Sirrus brushed off the offer to take it back. That would actually make some sense. He then slid down the banister until he was sitting on the ground as well, hating that he couldn’t be bothered to disagree. It was the most literal case of “I hate it. Give me more” that he had ever experienced. Maybe one day he would explain to Sirrus that this wasn’t the first time he’d had a mouthful of something that had this strong of a blood taste. After all, if he didn’t, Griffon would no doubt rat him out at a moment’s notice. He’d been waiting for the opportunity to tell on him to someone for his Redgrave City eating habits for ages now. “That would be absolutely awful. I think I would love that.”

The man with the red hair closed his eyes and shook his head, resisting the small smile that threatened to sneak its way onto his face. V truly was something else. He was glad that they had been given the opportunity to meet. It had been a lifetime since he’d had the opportunity to speak with someone this intriguing. One could only hope that V enjoyed his presence as much as he enjoyed his. He knew that it was unlikely, however. After all, he was a gigantic weirdo. But then again, this was the second time they’d spent a late night chatting aimlessly about gods knew what when everyone else was asleep and V should be asleep. It was probably best that he usher him off to bed before he fell asleep lead against the wall and he had to stealthily carry him back to his bedroom. Again.Though it would be easier to do here than back at the Ludwig estate. “Go to bed, V. I believe you may be drunk.”

“Yes. I believe you may be right.” He chuckled quietly to himself. It seemed that he was something of a lightweight, at least when it came to this damned blood wine.

(-~-)

Okay, so your gonna laugh, but I had 400 words left to write today to hit my self-imposed and probably stupid chapter-length limit, and then I went and took a nap. Woke up at 5:30 pm, and I kid you not, I wrote 2.4K more words. This chapter is exactly 5k words, and that makes my OCD immeasurably happy. Like, this is 11 pages long! Normally it’s like 6, maybe 7! I know that’s insane, but it does make me excited! I just really enjoyed writing this conversation between V and Sirrus, I guess. They have a fun dynamic, and I like the idea of V making a friend outside of his family. After all, he doesn’t have very many. I think he considers the rest of the team as a sort of extended family, and Sirrus is sort of this odd exception because he still barely knows him in the grand scheme of things. But either way, it just made me stupidly giddy to write this chapter and both expand on two of my favorite characters and also sprinkle in a little bit of lore. The next chapter is plan time, so that’s going to be pretty fun, too. I hope you enjoyed this one!

See you on Friday!

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unknowncountrygirl · 4 years ago

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The New Chaser Pt.4

Iris walked into the common room and Murphy spotted her immediately. Wearing high waisted denim jeans, and he had never been so happy to be ass level with the world. What made his brain almost shut down was an all too familiar hand knitted sweater, with a predominant W on it.

Freaking Weasley.

He didn't even care which one, Charlie or Bill. Most likely freaking Bill. Stupid, brave, and stupidly handsome Bill. He knew they were close, but he wondered the situation that would arise for Bill to give her his sweater.

Iris spotted them all gathered in a corner and made her way over, looking a bit sheepish.

“I thought I was meeting just Skye, about the Quidditch tryouts.” She admitted.

“Right, about that-” Skye started.

“Not all who aspire to play Quidditch make their House team on their first try.” Orion cut her off in his firm, yet still dreamy and far off tone. Iris's whole posture fell.

“I see.”

Murphy couldn't stand it. “But you did!” He yelled excitedly.

“I did! I made the team!?” Iris asked, her eyes bright and a smile upon her lips.

“Congratulations. You are our new chaser, Iris Rosewood.” Orion conformed for her.

“Smashin, right?” Skye punched her shoulder.

“If you could see your face, Iris. Did we fool you into thinking you hadn't made the team?” Murphy asked her, hoping she wouldn't take the tease personally. She placed a hand over her chest and let out a long breath.

“It was hard to tell,” she admitted honestly. “But I was holding onto hope that I'd made the team.”

“Hope won't get you anywhere in Quidditch, Iris, your hard work got you the chaser position.” Skye told her.

“Well I was 81% sure we had you fooled.”

“Numbers aren't worth much unless they're on a scoreboard McNully.” Skye retorted to him, earning her a glare.”

“Quidditch is not about keeping score.” Orion mentioned offhanded. That earned a odd look from the other three in the circle.

“It literally is, if we're going to win the House cup.” Skye explained as if she was talking to a child. “And those chances just got better with you playing Chaser alongside us, Iris.”

“Well it's brilliant news to me! Thank you, I couldn't have done it without you.” The blonde smiled at each of them warmly.

“No problem!” Skye chirped.

“I know!” Murphy could have slapped himself.

“You are welcome.” Orion said, smoothly as fine silk. Murphy, Orion, and Skye all looked at each other with puzzled expressions.

“Hold on,” Skye held up a finger, “which one of us do you mean, Iris?”

“Couldn't I have been talking to all of you?” Iris asked innocently.

“Indeed. We are all of us. And all of us are one.”

“How do you not drive yourself absolutely bonkers, Orion?” Skye retorted in her typically crass way.

“How does anyone find mental clarity amid chaos?”

“Knew you'd answer my question with a question...” She huffed and blew a piece of her blue hair out of her eye.

“Was it not a hypothetical question?”

“Well, let's see... Skye asked, how do you not drive yourself absolutely bonkers, and then Orion asked, how is it that anyone finds mental clarity amid chaos. Then Skye said, knew you'd answer my question with a question. And then-”

“You're an interesting one McNully.” Skye cut him off with a huff, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Shall we get back to celebrating Iris joining our Quidditch team?” Orion asked.

“Yeah, it's funny, I just realized that this is the first time I've seen you three together in one place at one time.” Iris smiled, trying to redirect the conversation. Even though there was obvious DO NOT ASK and blinking red lights in his minds eye, Murphy opened his mouth and immediately regretted it.

“And what do you think about that?” What if she answers and says its rotten, smooth move.

But in typical Iris fashion, “I think it's wonderful having all my new Quidditch mates together.”

“Quidditch brings together witches and wizards of all kinds.” Orion told her with a smile that made Murphy want to punch him right in the groin. He was beginning to get a very uncomfortable feeling that perhaps Iris's kind nature and beauty had allured more then just him.

“All kinds for sure.” Skye agreed.

“So we're Quidditch mates. Does this mean you're going to start calling me McNully now?” Murphy asked. Iris completely ignored him and asked,

“So what now? How should we celebrate?”

“With Quidditch of course!” Skye said with a murderous glint in her eye that would strike fear into most people.

“Let us head to the Pitch. It's time for your first official team practice as a chaser at Hogwarts.” Orion told Iris, placing a hand on her shoulder, turning her towards the door. Again the flame of jealous rage burned in Murphy's stomach as he watched Orion snake his arm around her shoulder's.

He had never had a bad thought or feeling towards Orion, but in that instant he did. What he really wanted to do was reach up, rip Orion's arm off and slap him with his own hand and maybe punch him in the crotch while he was at it so that he doubled over, making them eye level so he could hit him again.

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Murphy made himself at home in the commentators booth with some books and a notepads, he knew this was going to be a long 'special' practice and what Orion had in store. See who could balance on a broom and break the record. He had no idea what good it would do, but he was ready with a stopwatch.

Iris and Skye were both easy to spot on their brooms, Iris's white blonde hair all piled on top of her head in a huge knot and Skye's bright blue hair made the two girls hard to miss. There must have been a joke passed because the high giggling of the two girls picked up on the wind and blew the noise his way.

He looked up and saw they were both still standing on their brooms. He had to admit, it seemed that the two girls were genuinely getting along not just as a mentor and student but as two people who enjoyed one another's company. He smiled as he scratched something down, he felt that Iris would be a good for Skye in the way that perhaps the blonde's less volatile nature could rub off on Skye. He honestly had no idea how Skye was sorted into Gryffindor, she had Slytherin written all over her.

Iris was very easy going, but he had seen her fired up before and he had loved that little wild spark in her. There wasn't much he disliked about her, he knew that eventually something would arise that would make her seem more human to him, something that would grate on his nerves but as it stood she was in his eyes the perfect female.

One thing he had grown to truly admire is that she saw people it seemed by their heart before she saw what they looked like, most people saw the chair before they actually saw Murphy. He also noted that her friend group was very much like a patchwork quilt, full of clashing patterns and colors that somehow all melded together to make something warm and comforting. He knew that Rowan Khana, the girl who wore hand me down clothing, oversized glasses, and always had her nose in a book was her absolute best friend and closest confidant. She was also exceptionally close to Ben Copper, who he knew because they roomed together, a muggleborn who had been afraid of the world had befriended her and she had helped him navigate the world of Wizardry. She had befriended the eldest Weasley, Bill, and every Weasley since, Charlie, Percy, Fred and George, which made him wonder if she knew the family and subsequently the other younger Weasley's. She was also friends with the ever popular Penny Haywood, and the trickster twins Tulip and Tonks.

Then there was Barnaby Lee, while he seemed a decent fellow he was awfully dense and Iris had nothing but patience and kindness when it came to him. Andre who he had talked with about quidditch also had nothing but dazzling things to say about the girl, admitting also to Murphy that if he was straight, he would 100% be chasing Iris's skirt. Then there were her friends he knew less about, such as Jae Kim, Badeea Ali, Liz Tuttle, Diego Caplan, Cedric Diggory, Talbot Winger, and Chiara Lobosca. He knew that Liz, Talbot, and Chiara were exceptionally quiet and reserved people and somehow, someway Iris had used that gravitational charm of hers to even pull them out of the rock they had been living under.

These were all people that under normal circumstances would not be friendly with one another let alone actually call themselves friends. The only thing they had in common was the shared friendship and subsequent philia form of love that Iris had flourished in all of them. She was the gravitational center that held them together and she had no idea just how valuable and loved she was. That was what he admired the most about her, he had been charmed by her looks but had fallen for the heart she had. She put everyone else before herself and he knew there were few people that were so self sacrificing as she was.

He was falling in love with the girl, and it was terrifying.

He had nearly worried his lip bloody when he checked the watch and seen they were closing in on nearly 3 hours. It was no surprise that Iris and Skye were the last two left on their brooms.

Iris was the last to loose her footing on the broom and fall, clocking in at 2 hours, 53 minutes, and 4.9 seconds. Perhaps now he could focus on his notes and stats.

Unfortunately, all thought cleared the room when a little enchanted paper bird flew into his commentators box. A note, from Iris, asking for him to meet her in the changing tent in a few minutes.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Iris entered the tent after the unorthodox practice session and cracked her neck.

“And now entering the changing room, the new record holder of the broom balancing challenge! Clocking an impressive 2 hours, 53 minutes, and 4.9 seconds... Gryffindor's newest Chaser, Iris Rosewood!” Murphy shouted, and she smiled over at him.

“That's quite the Quidditch introduction to live up to, no pressure.”

“You're on the Quidditch Team, it'll be nothing but pressure from now on.” He joked, “so, what did you want to see me about?”

“I've learned our first house match will be against Slytherin. We've been practicing plenty, but I thought you'd know how to strategise against their team best.”

“I always know best! Direct your attention to my blackboard dearest Iris.” He wanted to slap himself. Dearest Iris, it sounded even cornier then he thought it would.

“There's nothing on it.” Her gentle voice stated.

“Yet. You know how this works, Iris” He picked up his wand and flicked it at the blackboard, drawings, numbers, and patterns coming to life on the black surface. “This is how you defeat Slytherin, but you didn't hear it from me. I'm just the impartial commentator.”

“Oh come on now Murphy,” Iris drawled with a sly grin. “We both know how impartial you are not.” Was she... Was she teasing him? “But, all right, talk me through it.”

“Talk? Perhaps my favorite thing to do!”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“And so, now you know... That is how you crush Slytherin in the first match.” Iris looked incredibly perplexed as she studied the blackboard.

“Murphy... This is... This is just the Thimblerig Shuffle. You already taught this to me. You watched me try it at practice.” She stated with a pout.

“Right,” he affirmed. “But you haven't tried it in a house match yet. That's where it matters! That's when it will count! That's your true test-”

“The true test of your Thimblerig Shuffle strategy? Or are you testing me personally?” There was a firmness in her voice that alerted him that she was put off by this. He felt a bit sheepish and rubbed his neck.

“Perhaps both? No Pixies will be released, if that helps.”

“I thought I was done being tested once I made the team.”

“You were tested so that you could make the team. But you'll be tested again and again.” he informed her. “Navigating the house alliances and rivalries, the team politics and policies. Just the clash of wills between Skye and Orion alone.”

Iris rolled her eyes and let out a huff as she plopped onto the bench nearby.

“Yeah. I'm starting to see some of that already.”

“Sometimes I'm their mediator... Sometimes the instigator.” He winked.

“That shouldn't surprise anyone.” She rubbed her forehead.

“Listen, Iris, do I believe the Thimblerig Shuffle will throw off Slytherin's defense? Yes. Would I like to see my strategy put to the test? Also yes.” He admitted honestly.

“I came to you for some insight into the competition, Murphy. But to pul off your original strategy in a House match... I'm brand new to the team, I won't be calling the shots.”

“Bingo! That's your test: convincing Orion to give the Thimblerig Shuffle a chance in a house match.” He exclaimed.

“I could give it a try, but Orion could say no.”

“And then you could go rogue and try the strategy anyway. Think of our house!”

“Uhuh.” She gave him an unimpressed look. “I'll go and talk to Orion. You do know you're perhaps the most partial impartial commentator ever.”

“That's what my mum says.” He gave her a wink but he could tell she was stressed and not as receptive to the flirtatious banter.

#hphm #hphm murphy mcnully #murphy mcnully #hphm quidditch #hphm jacobs sibling

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teenmomtruths · 8 years ago

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Reunion (Submission)

Did you get links and watch yet? Sounds like it but just checking. So first off, let’s clear one thing up for Jenelle’s defenders: Despite her constant rhetoric of ‘she took my son’, Jenelle Willingly Signed Him OVER!! She even narrates it at the end of her 16&Pregnant episode. She did a voiceover saying, I’ve realized signing Jace over to my mom is the best thing for him, because I’m just not ready to be a mom. Point blank period. There was never a mention of it being temporary. Yes, she was young, but she’s had plenty of time to grow up, and she has not. Not one bit. She doesn’t walk away from any of her struggles having learned anything or doing anything differently. Those big, teary eyes glancing up at the camera and meekly looking down, as if she’s just so hurt, is SO fake. Any ex addict can scratch that surface and see, she’s putting her all into putting up a front instead of actually cleaning up. As I told my brother when I finally got clean the last time (and he asked why he should believe me), you shouldn’t. Nothing I can say is going to make you trust me at this point. All I can do now is show you. When it’s been 1,2,3,4 years+ that I have held a job, not been arrested, not been caught up with some druggie guy, Then Maybe you can start to trust me again. And that’s what happened. Jenelle distorts her timeline big time. She hasn’t stayed out of trouble for 2 yrs, Idk how she thinks she can say that and no one dispute it when it’s all on Google for God’s sake. She’s delusional, and it’s getting worse. She’ll never change. I have to say, I can see why Babs didn’t charge her with kidnapping. That carries 25 to life in the States. While Jenelle could possibly benefit from a year or so in prison, I don’t think what she did warrants all that. And Babs needs to stop exclusively blaming everything on her SO’s. My mom used to do that too. It’s not all them, it’s her too, and her telling them how it’s going to be, since she holds the purse straps. Some people might think it’s a stretch, but seeing how impulsive and unbalanced they both are, I’d be worried she’d hurt Jace just to hurt Babs. I wouldn’t let him over there anymore. It’s just confusing him. We let our nieces and nephew still see their 'mom’ some after she lost custody and they stayed upset. Once we cut her off and they got past the first month of not seeing her, they’ve been so much more settled and light. Like it’s a load off. She’s not doing shit to straighten up either and I’ll be damned if we’re going to spend weeks working with them, only to have her sabotage it with one overnight visit, and set them back a month. Nope. She had chance after chance after chance, with DSS, with the court, with us, and she blew it every time. They’re my kids now.

Did anyone catch Kail responding to what celebrity she gets mistaken for the most? She said, only my haters will understand this probably, but the Hulk. I Knew she trolled Reddit lol. At least she admitted a, she never loved Javi, and b, she was wrong in not being more understanding of his feelings and how things looked on his end. I’m glad they seem to be in a much better place. She’s still salty as ever with Vee. Vee moved her life to Delaware to follow them, and I’m sorry, as long as a small child is in your home 50% of the time, she’s Having to do with him. It’s not like they leave people alone and just ask their dad for stuff. I’m sure Vee fixes meals and does baths and all that stuff when he’s there as much as Jo does. Kail always acted as if Javi had the right to a voice but Vee didn’t, even though it was literally the exact same situation. Hasn’t grown from that, but hopefully she will. She bugged me with the 'black’ stuff. I like my clothes, car and men black. Um, since when? Pretty sure Jo and Javi are Hispanic. Anyhoo, again, at least she admitted Jo’s stepped up big time and a great dad. She’s at least growing in baby steps, which is more than can be said for Jenelle.

Super proud of Leah. She and the girls seem much happier and settled. I hope she graduates because she’ll feel so good about herself. She’s already beaming at just stepping on campus, it’s so cute. I loved her and Babs convo about Prince Chaaammming coming along with a yacht :)

Wow at that text from Adam. If they chase him around, begging him to film after accepting a 6 figure salary they’re idiots. No one cares to see Adam, let him freakin’ GO. Same for Nathan. Although it was funny hearing Jenelle, Queen of Hypocrisy, saying what fame whores Nathan and Babs were.

This is off reunion topic, but since it’s being brought up lately: Sophia. I do think Sophia has exceptionally unruly hair. One of my niece’s hair is so messy, it really does no good to try. I’ll pin up the top half and straighten the bottom, then let it down and do the top, and it’s silky and flowing. An hour later, you’d never know I did a thing to it that day. Unless I put it up. It’s crazy. BUT I do think Farrah’s doing real damage letting her do all these grown up things. Sophia has made comments like 'I can’t go out with no makeup’ and 'I can’t finish my breakfast, I’ll get fat’. That’s not cool. A (at the time) 6 year old saying she can’t be seen outside her home with no makeup?! Wtf? No. And worried about getting fat! Because all Farrah emphasizes is how important your outer looks are. That’s a very bad thing to ingrain in a child. Sophia is already very superficial and can be very cold. Farrah is 100% having a negative effect on her in that regard.

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jaroslavprachar · 6 years ago

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I Don’t Want to Treat Dog Cancer!

Some people receive a diagnosis and decide they just don’t want to treat dog cancer.

Wow. Do you have any feelings about this? I bet you do. Let’s look at this situation.

Is It Wrong If I Don’t Want to Treat Dog Cancer?

Is it wrong? Is it right? Well, as with most complex issues, the answer is not black or white, yes or no, one thing but not the other.

We humans are strange when confronted with bothersome subjects. Typically, we like to make things simple and create two choices in our mind … and then decide one is correct as quickly as we can.

But reality usually has nothing to do with two choices.

Reality does not really care about limiting options so things are easy.

Dog Lovers Are As Different as Their Dogs

Over the years I’ve worked with many kinds of dog guardians. Some of them live out of their car in beach parking lots. Some of them fly me out in one of their planes.

Whatever their life circumstances, all of my clients come to me because they need help with their loved pets. It’s my job to fix the problem. And when it comes to canine cancer, things can get tricky, because sometimes fixing is not in the cards.

Some Cancers Can’t Be “Fixed”

I’ve spent most of my career trying to find new solutions for hard-to-fix-pet-problems, yet I still don’t have “the cure” for cancer when it can’t be physically removed, for example, by surgery.

Sure, I’ve seen many surprising cases where what we have done has defied the odds in a good way.

But saying “I can cure your dog’s cancer” when it has metastasized is not the truth.

Sure, there have been miraculous cases with miraculous results, but can I assure any person of a miracle in their dog’s specific case?

No.

What I CAN offer is a broad array of tools to help make things better.

Better than if we had done nothing, and sometimes a lot better. But not every single time.

Some Cancers Can Be Helped, for a While

We can look at diet, apoptogens, immune support, side effect strategies, drugs, surgery, homeopathy, homotoxicology, experimental tools, manual therapies, acupuncture, herbs, mind-body approaches, life quality enhancement, chronotherapy, and more. Much of this is discussed in my book The Dog Cancer Survival Guide.

Get the eBook for $9.99

Struggling to make a good decision? This book will really, really help.

But I still can’t promise the cure for systemic cancers (cancers that have spread).

Sometimes things are so advanced I can’t do much at all to help, except try to increase comfort.

Every Type of Medicine Has Limits

When you think about it, this is a strange situation.

A dog lover comes to me and finds out their pet has systemic cancer. They usually hope I can fix it and can resolve the problem. I’m the guy for the job, right? I’m the guy who literally wrote the book!

I did, and I’m glad I did because it’s helped hundreds of thousands of dogs over the years … but even so, it might turn out I can’t do that much to help this dog lover’s very specific dog.

Very quickly we confront the limitations of medicine. And I am not referring only to the limitations of Western (allopathic) medicine.

There Is No One Approach That “Works” for Cancer

For all of you out there who insist that “the cure” for all these dogs with systemic cancer is actually the “alternative” approach if only someone would just listen, I can tell you that you’re just wrong.

I’m not only open to these tools, but I use them daily in actual clinical pet care. And there is no substance on this planet that always cures cancers that have spread.

Similarly, if you are one of those who believes “the cure” for systemic cancer is chemotherapy, radiation, or other conventional approaches, you are wrong, too. Those don’t “work” any better or more consistently than any of the other tools in other systems of medicine.

Tools have specific uses. A hammer is good at being a hammer and stinks at being a nail.

The same is true for allopathic (conventional medicine) tools. They are good for what they are good for, and no more.

It’s also the same for holistic/complementary/alternative tools. They are good for what they are good for, and no more.

No tool is perfect, and no tool does everything.

Anyone out there fist-pumping about how people doing acupuncture are quacks, or about how only evil people give their dog antibiotics …

… well … put your fists down.

Some Things Are Unfixable

Unfixable happens sometimes.

I hate to write it as much as you hate to read it, but it’s necessary to understand why sometimes people don’t want to treat dog cancer.

Some people are so overpowered by grief they cannot understand any information I provide after they hear the word “cancer”.

The experience of acute stress messes up our ability to comprehend things.

That is why I devoted the first section of the Guide to guarding the guardian, even though I still get flak from some folks who think that touchy-feely stuff is beyond my scope of practice.

But without clear thinking on the part of the guardian, things turn out badly for our loved dogs. And getting clarity can take some time. More than a 30-minute consult in a vet’s office.

My Job: Provide Clear Info

It’s my job to provide clear and honest information. By honest, I mean really explaining what I DO know and what I DON’T know. Being sober in my assessment, and clear about what the numbers say and whether they are relevant or not.

I have to balance good quality research, personal experience, and the experience of others whose input is based on real-world, clinical experience of a large number of dogs.

I can’t rely on the internet rumor mill.

By the time I’m done, clients have what they need to decide. Usually, the person needs to take some time to digest things. Maybe they want to get more information too before they decide what to do. And what one person decides could be totally different than what another person would decide.

(I hear that many readers of my book rely on the private Facebook group to help make clear-eyed decisions, because members of that group are exceptionally kind and supportive, and do not judge each other.)

Your Job: Making a Decision That Is Right for YOU

When a dog lover makes their initial decision about treatment, they have usually done a lot of thinking.

They weigh many factors unique to their dog, cancer itself, and many other things affecting their guardianship.

The nice thing is, of course, that changes are usually possible in the future, at least for a while. As cancer progresses, choices might no longer be valid, and new choices might be necessary.

For example, surgery that might be possible now might not be possible later in the year, if the tumor has grown too much or invaded other structures.

That’s why it’s important to get all the information up front and weigh it all out.

But whatever the decision is, it’s none of my business thinking it is “correct” or “not correct.”

When You Don’t Want to Treat Dog Cancer

So maybe you are like some clients of mine, or readers of my book, and you want to do absolutely nothing at all to treat your dog’s cancer.

Are you a cruel, inhumane, terrible person who should be shot?

I’m certain you aren’t. But I’m also sure that you know some people who might think that about you, even if they don’t say it out loud. Or worse, they DO say it on social media comments. Ick!

So let me answer that question for you.

Wait, I won’t. That question, and the self-righteous, holier-than-thou indignation that some people receive, due to their well-considered choices, needs to be put where it belongs.

In the garbage.

It’s OK to Not Treat Your Dog with Cancer

Let’s assume that those who decide to not treat their dog have taken the time to absorb good information about the diagnosis, and, based on that, they have decided the right choice is no treatment.

You know what? That is okay. There’s no rule that says you MUST treat cancer, or you are not a good dog guardian if you refuse treatment.

Here’s some perspective: some people don’t bring their dog to the vet at all, for various reasons.

Some people don’t view animals as family members, especially in other places in the world.

Should I be shocked that a farmer did not treat his goat’s cancer, and should I gossip with my friends about what a bad person he is?

Are goats any more or less intrinsically valuable than dogs?

We Don’t Know!

I don’t know every detail about anyone’s life, probably not even my own.

Maybe there is something going on in a person’s life that makes treating their dog’s cancer a bad choice. Maybe they lost their house in a fire and they need to feed and clothe their children.

Maybe you or I would do the same thing in their shoes.

You Don’t Have to Tell People

People enduring hardship (and everyone endures hardship, even those you think of as more fortunate than you) often must put up with a lot of unsolicited advice. This is particularly common these days in social media.

I know some people have regretted offering up information about their dog’s cancer because we can’t unsay things we say.

Sometimes it’s better to keep things private, or at least communicate only with selected people.

Unless, of course, you appreciate the wide array of input you will be getting from everyone all over the world about what you should do for your dog.

Stop Giving Unsolicited Advice

I have often wanted to tell other people how to do things and what choices to make, even people who have not paid me for a consult.

I used to offer unsolicited advice all the time.

Maybe I’ve mellowed with age, or maybe managed to squeeze out a few drops of wisdom from experience, but now I see that I’m wrong when I try to convince someone of something, especially when they have not asked for my input.

Sure, a little information may be appreciated, but that is all.

For example, offer something strictly helpful, like “go talk to so-and-so, who knows more than I do about the subject.”

I’ve learned that I don’t know what I am talking about regarding most things.

And Take Advice Only from Those Who Know

I do know a lot about dog cancer in general, but, as I hope I’ve made clear, I never know how an individual case will definitely “work out.”

I do know about animal medicine in general, but like most people who are experts, the more I understand about animal medicine, the more I realize that what I don’t know is much more than what I DO know.

And I’ve devoted most of my 47 years to this field.

When it comes to my own and my family’s health, I have high standards for what “knowing what you are talking about” means.

People who know what they are talking about are not hobbyists, part-timers, or dilettantes. And its most definitely not Youtube watchers or Facebook learners who pick up a couple of things that may or may not be true.

I don’t want any advice from a dabbler or headline reader who has not actually worked in the field, and for a long time, when my loved ones are at stake.

The same is true, of course, for my pets.

Final Point: “Treatment” Is a Broad Term!

The final point worth mentioning is the word “treatment” when it comes to dog cancer does not have a clear meaning.

“Treatments” vary.

Is a low carbohydrate diet a “treatment”?

Is chemotherapy a “treatment” if it increases median life expectancy by 8-14 months but cancer returns?

Are supporting immunity or normal apoptosis levels treatments?

How about pain control?

Herbs? Homeopathics?

Cancer is not a black-and-white subject, so we need to be careful about the words we use. We need to be careful about deciding what is right for other people as we don’t know or understand the issue at hand.

We need to recall that there is almost more to the story than we know, even when we think we know a lot.

All my best,

Dr. D

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isabellelambert1975 · 7 years ago

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My escape from fear to a healing garden

Many people are now talking openly about their physical and mental challenges and how their garden or gardening has helped them. I want to talk about my story of trauma, post-traumatic stress disorder and the garden, and I hope my story may help other people.

I’ve also done a video on this, so if you prefer watching to reading a post, it’s here:

youtube

Going back to the beginning…

I was born in Gibraltar, but as my father worked for the British government we moved a lot in my childhood. After five safe and happy years living in South East England, my brothers and I found ourselves living in an unsettled and unhappy Caribbean country.

A Caribbean paradise?

Thirty-one years of an exceptionally brutal dictatorship had ended in the dictator’s assassination around a year earlier. It was also around the time of the Cuban Missile Crisis, so everything felt very unsafe.

A series of revolutions culminated in a civil war. Fearing ‘another Cuba’, the US Army intervened and we fled the country, briefly becoming refugees.

This notice, from an old family film, sums the sense of upheaval that lingers from that time.

Earthquakes and revolutions…

After we left the Caribbean island, we then lived in another South American country. It was a wonderful place to live, but it still had the occasional revolution, a higher level of violent crime than Britain and several earthquakes.

So I knew that the world could literally open up and swallow you at any moment. But I always believed that I would be safe if I got back to England. When I had nightmares, it was always about trying to escape to England to be safe.

But I thought England was safe…

I came to live in England permanently when I was 18. Eventually I began working in journalism and moved into a house with one of my brothers.

On the second night we were in the house, I woke up to find four men in my room, three with balaclavas concealing their faces. They attacked me with some kind of bat and also with a knife. We subsequently discovered the knife had been taken from our own kitchen.

I screamed and my brother came tearing down the stairs to help. Fortunately they ran away.

I have no idea how long it all took, because although I wasn’t concussed I seemed to have lost a small piece of memory. It took several hours before I realised that my arms and legs had knife cuts across them and that my back was bruised from the blows.

The immediate effects

I felt as if I had stepped into a strange, unknown world, where everything seemed very bright and loud and menacing, and where I could no longer assess whether a knock at the door was someone come to hurt me or just a delivery.

For the first ten days or so, I had to deal with considerable physical pain too, as the blows and some of the knife cuts were painful, although not ultimately serious. Were those footsteps behind me a threat? What was that noise in the middle of the night?

My brain no longer knew what the rules were or how to evaluate even the most ordinary event. My senses were on hyper-alert, so that every time I dropped asleep I was jerked awake as if someone had thrown a bucket of cold water over me.

Above all, it was exhausting and painful, as if someone had imprisoned and tortured me.

What is PTSD?

It was, of course, my own mind that had imprisoned me and for a while it seemed as if it refused to let me go. Friends were enormously supportive and I went to counselling, which had some limited help.

A psychiatrist friend of mine has since told me ‘Bad things happen, and when they do, it’s normal to feel terrible.

But I was still feeling many of the effects over a year later and that is post traumatic stress disorder or PTSD. Everyone said that time would help – and it does, but so slowly and in small increments.

Take on new challenges?

However, over the next four years, I got my dream job working on women’s magazines, met my husband and had twins, all of which was wonderful.

Taking on new challenges helped me, but the jumpiness, the sleepless nights and the inability to properly distinguish between a real and imagined threat – it was all still there. I began to get panic attacks in the London Underground and in shops.

Eventually I went to my GP who signed me off sick for two months.

Learn to ‘stop and stare’.

One of the counsellors advised me to do four twenty minute sessions of relaxation and meditation a day.

‘I couldn’t possibly find time for that,’ I said. ‘Well, do you want to get better or not?’ was the reply.

It was the first time I properly understood that unless I looked after myself, then I wasn’t going to be able to look after my family and do my job. There is a reason why you have to put your own oxygen mask on first.

One of the exercises I was asked to do – every day – was to lie down in a calm and comfortable place, with the door shut and away from all distractions. ‘Take yourself round somewhere beautiful,’ they said. ‘Imagine you’re on a Caribbean beach.’

Not relaxing memories….

Well, my memories of Caribbean beaches involved armed soldiers. Not relaxing.

A healing garden

So I chose a garden for my meditation. Not a famous garden, and not my own garden (we only had a small courtyard at the time).

It was the garden of a house for sale, which a friend had shown me once. The owners had already gone, so garden was slightly overgrown. But you could still walk up its lavender lined front path and go round the side to see the beautiful raised veg beds just outside the back door.

It was long and thin, a typical English town garden in many ways, and divided up into sections. There was a tiny lawn, rose borders, a wilder part with long meadow grass and fruit trees.

As this was over twenty years ago, that blend of cultivation and wildness was before its time. It was a revelation to me.

I don’t have any photographs of that first garden, but I do have memories of other peaceful gardens. I think this scene from the Agapanthe garden in Normandy sums up the sense of a journey to a healing garden, with somewhere to sit to enjoy the greenery.

Create your own healing garden

My meditation is a mental walk around this garden, imagining the sounds, feelings, scents and sights of each part of it. I’ve put together a meditation based on going round a garden in a separate video, which you can adapt for your own imaginary garden tour if you like.

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I think one of the reasons I chose a garden was also because my favourite childhood book was The Secret Garden, a wonderful Edwardian children’s book about a boy in a wheelchair, a traumatised orphan girl and a farmer’s son coming together to heal by restoring a hidden garden.

Then I started to love real gardens

As I recovered from the panic attacks, I started to notice plants and flowers in the London streets around me.

It was a grey, windy February, but suddenly the brilliant yellow blaze of forsythia tumbled over a wall. A few snowdrops or anemones pushed shyly up in a front garden. The spicy floral scent of witch hazels wafted their elusive breath across the road. A friend’s winter flowering jasmine twined around her front railings.

There’s something very special about flowers like witch hazel which emerge in the bleakness of February.

I could see that even in a bare, cold winter there could be hope, joy and beauty.

A healing garden isn’t only the answer…

Of course, the meditation around the garden wasn’t the only thing that helped. I had Cognitive Behavioural Therapy which focused more on tips for managing panicky situations rather than examining either the trauma of the burglary or my time in South America.

No-one could promise me I would never be attacked again, but tips that helped me sleep a little better or shop without a panic attack, all reduced the stress.

At the time we had a tiny courtyard – around 15ft wide and 20ft long, but I longed for a garden of my own. When we moved out of London, I got my garden. But I discovered, with a shock that loving gardens wasn’t quite enough.

I had to discover the difference between weeds and flowers, though finding my own ‘gardening style’ was the most important part.

I had to learn about gardening – fast!

It takes time

Healing and gardening both take time to learn. And it also takes time to make your garden yours. Even if you find a house with a beautiful garden, we all have to discover our own gardening style.

It took us about six years to work out what we wanted. That was the beginning of a whole new adventure, which culminated in the Middlesized Garden blog and YouTube channel.

I don’t visit that secret imaginary garden so often now – but sometimes I still need to. If I wake with a start at 3am, I re-create my walk around that garden I only visited once. I usually I fall asleep again quite quickly.

Now I’m interested and excited to find out all the plants, ideas and strategies that gardening has to offer.

I’m still learning, so do join me on that gardening journey, and let me know if you’d like to hear more about gardens and stress relief as well as garden ideas and inspiration.

And if you have a story of stress and gardening, please do share it in the comments below. If you’ve blogged or vlogged it, then feel free to include a link – everyone’s approach is different and sharing stories can help us all. Thank you.

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